In the Aftermath, He Will Not Be Moved
by RanebowsKlaineTrainandGandolas
Summary: Shane waits for one of them to wake up. Based of off CP Coulter's Dalton.
1. I am the man that cannot be moved

Shane sat in between the two beds in the room, waiting for one of them to wake up. Kurt had been forced to go back to his own room, and Micah had been discharged earlier this morning. He was forced to wait, and sit quietly, while the two most important people in his life stayed unmoving. He would stay waiting, here in the uncomfortable plastic chair, until someone made him leave. The steady beeping of the different machines would count the minutes for him, he needed to check no clock. Occasionaly alternating his gaze from one face to the other.

He just had to wait, and in the morning Kurt would come and wait with him. This was the cycle they had been in since Hell Night. Since that pshcopath turned all their worlds upside down.

He had to shake his head to clear his thoughts then, everyone always reminded him to only think positive thoughts when waiting for something to change. The beeping of one of the heart moniters, he couldn't even remember who's, changed. It broke from the pattern it had been on for five days straight and sped up ever so slightly.

Shane quickly looked from one boy to the other, trying to find a difference in either one. Suddenly, eyes fluttered open, and a weak voice asked-

"S-Shane?"

* * *

><p>So this is the first time I've ever wrote a fanfiction with the intention of it being multi-chaptered. I'm so habituated, I almost always end up just writing a tiny drabble, but I will follow this up, and it might be about four to six chapters. So lucky you, you get to read an actual <em>story<em> by me. Get ready fan of the Warblers, cause I'm about to rock your world.

-Disclaimer- I do not own Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Shane Anderson, Reed Van Kamp, or Micah Randall. I am not Ryan Murphy or CP Coulter. Sad isn't it?


	2. Wishing, wanting, your's for the Taking

"S-Shane?" Kurt asked weakly, closing the door behind him, and pulling up a chair next to his boyfriend's brother. "Are you still up?"

"Kurt!" He hissed, standing up and letting the older boy take his seat, on account of his leg being broken. "One of them, I think they're waking up. One of them, their heart rate went up!"

Kurt turned his head and studied the machines. "Shane, both of the machines are the same as when I left. Listen, I know that you want to be here when they wake up, but you need sleep."

"What about you? You need to recover, I don't."

"But I also understand the concept of not running myself into the ground. If you're hallucinating now then you _really_ need some rest." He said, placing a hand on the dancers shoulder.

"No, I wasn't imagining it." He hissed, pulling a chair up next to Reed's bed. "Don't give me that look Kurt. You want them to wake up too."

"Shane… Go to sleep, I'll wake you up if anything happens."

Shane tried to protest, but the face Kurt was giving him was actually pretty scary for someone so much shorter than himself. He stood up from the bedside and walked over to the cushioned couch that lined the wall. He pulled his legs up under him and leant againt the arm of the sofa. His eyes never left his Boyfriend's tranquil face.

His eyes drooped closed and he fell into a deep slumber, but it was anything but peaceful. He wouldn't tell anyone, but nightmares were one of the reasons he had avoided sleep. What right did he have to have nightmares, he hadn't even been in the fire.

There was a constant nagging in the back of his brain, yelling at him, telling him to throw the hands off of him and run into the fire. Micah beat him to it, and ran in for him -Shane would always question why, was it because his friends were in the fire, or was it because his pasts love's friends were in the fire? He'd need to ask him when he woke up- Now people were stummbling out of the fire. Two bodies, helping eachother through the wreckage. Julian stummbled out, half carrying Reed, and collapsing when he reached the crowd. Clark burst out of the crowd now, running to them with Shane hot on his heals. Pulling his unconcious boyfriend from under the actor, the fear was cold in his heart. Julian coughed, holding tight to Clark.

"_Logan, Blaine, and K-Kurt." _he chocked out. _"The tw- tweedles and Dwight too… and Wes too." _

Clark took the reins. _"Someone get the paramedics over here! NOW!" _

That was when Micah would fall through the broken threshold, coughing up smoke and crawling away from the inferno. Blaine and Kurt would follow, smashing through the broken glass wall. Dwight would come a minute later, carrying one of the twins on his back, with Logan right behind him carrying the other. Then Wes would appear, falling from the second floor where the wall had been completely blown out

This was what trolled him dreams, his friends -his _family-_ falling out of the ruins of the art hall, burned and bloody. The guilt was next, the guilt of ten people collapsed around him, and being able to only focus on one face.

He would always awake at that point. Before his friends were loaded up into five ambulances and carted away to Westerville Memorial. Before the flashing lights and paramedics forced him away.

When his eyes opened, nothing had changed. Kurt was sitting there, holding Blaine's hand like a lifeline keeping him afloat. He was humming, something that would have to substitute singing for a while, and occasionally throwing a glance at his best friend.

"Any change?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his head.

Kurt nodded, a small movement that was barely there. Tears pooled in his eyes and one silently made its decent down his cheek

"What Happened?" He asked, eyes widening

"You were right."

* * *

><p>I'm going to be totally honest here… I have no clue where this story is taking me, Mama is right, the boys just run away with you. So I no longer have any idea how long this will go on for, my original story-line was blown out of the water by this little idea here. Next chapter will have some progress for Blaine and Reed… definetely maybe O~O.<p>

-Disclaimer thing- Seriously, I wish I was Mama CP. I'd have an army of little Daltonites at my disposal! Oh yeah, I kinda wish I was Ryan Murphy too... but not as much.


End file.
